What You Own
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: This is my version of what happens in RENT during the song What You Own, revolving around Mark and Roger. Rated T to be safe, because it's RENT.
1. Leave Your Conscience at the Tone

A/N: Okay, so this should be a relatively short fic, maybe six or so chapters, maybe a few more. It basically is my version of what happens during the song What You Own. It could be for either the play or the movie, but if you want it to be one, it's movie. My Joanne is Tracie Thoms and my Mimi is Rosario Dawson. The fic may end at the end of the song, but I will probably take it one more chapter to the end of RENT. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own RENT. I do, however, own both soundtracks.

**Leave Your Conscience At the Tone**

It was a rainy mid-November morning in New York City. The kind of morning that makes everyone take one look out the window and want to hide under the covers to will the sun to come out. Most of November had been this way so far, dampening what should have been a time of growing holiday spirits.

The rain was just fine with Mark Cohen. As far as he was concerned, the rain could come down as long and hard as it wanted to, until it washed away the City and took Mark and his grief with it.

Ever since Halloween, when Angel died and Roger abandoned his friends for Santa Fe, things had been going downhill. Collins hadn't been heard from since the funeral. Mimi was in drug rehab and was attending Life Support meetings, but things didn't seem to be getting any better. Benny continued to pay for Mimi's treatment, but that was as far as his involvement went in group affairs. Maureen and Joanne dropped by the Loft once or twice a week to check up on Mark and on Mimi's progress (reports were made both to Mark and Benny), but they had their own lives as well, and they didn't have time to spend moping around.

In reality, neither did Mark. He still had to go to work on weekdays for Buzzline. It hadn't taken long for Mark to realize he hated his job, but he kept it so Roger could worry about Mimi and not about the rent. Now that Roger was gone, Mark didn't know why he didn't just quit – except it was something to do instead of hanging around the Loft, developing footage taken months ago.

That was the hardest part of Mark's everyday. Coming home at night and feeling obliged to work on his own film. He _wanted _to finish it, but he had no real motivation. Who would watch it when he was done? The documentary wouldn't bring Angel back to life, and it wouldn't bring Roger home, and it wouldn't help Mimi with her withdrawal, and it wouldn't help Mark with anything. Except his sense of accomplishment. Which was pretty much non-existent anyways. It was difficult to come home and stare at frames of all of his friends together, when it seemed unlikely things would ever be like that again.

It was better just to cease thinking and go through the motions of a day as much as possible. Don't breathe too deep, don't think all day.

That was easier than letting the hurt in. Because Roger was right, of course. Mark did live a lie. He ran from his emotions whenever he could and hid himself in his work as much as possible to block out his failure and loneliness. Failure because he couldn't lead the kind of life he wanted to lead, where he could live for his own work instead of someone else's. And loneliness because he had no one, nothing, except his camera. He, Mark Cohen, really was a failure. He had nothing – he _was _nothing. Because when you're living in America, at the end of the millennium, you're what you own.

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A/N: Please review!


	2. The Filmmaker Cannot See

A/N: This chapter was already finished when I submitted this story, but I had to revise it a little, and I've been busy. But here it is!

Disclaimer: No. No. No.

**The Filmmaker Cannot See**

"Pookie, I'm gonna go out for a while today, kay?" Maureen announced to her girlfriend at breakfast one Sunday morning.

"What? Where? Why?" Joanne was clearly suspicious.

"Chill, sweetie. I have an audition this afternoon."

"An audition? That's great, honeybear! For what?" Obviously, the lawyer did not completely believe Maureen.

"This new off-Broadway play. I forget the name. Something about two women who fight all the time and in the end fall in love." She was teasing, and Joanne knew it.

"Well, I think I'll go visit Mark then," Joanne said, "He's been alone in that Loft for almost three weeks, and I've got nothing else to do today." It was no longer unusual for Joanne and Mark to be on good terms – they'd ended up finding a good friend in each other as they united in their exasperation over Maureen.

"Tell him I said hi," Maureen said, grabbing her coat and purse and giving Joanne a quick kiss before leaving.

An hour later, Joanne slid the door to the Loft open. "Hello?" she called.

Mark came out of his bedroom. "Oh, hi," he said, "What're you doing here?"

"Maureen had an audition, so I came to see how you were doing. May I sit?"

Mark smirked at Joanne's manners. "Yeah, sure."

Joanne sat on the couch, accepting the beer Mark passed her. "So, how _are _you doing?"

"Okay," he replied, "I've been working on my film."

"Can I see?" Joanne asked.

"Um, okay." Mark led the way back to his bedroom, where his projector was set up, and stood aside to let Joanne look at the paused still on the screen. It was of Roger and Mimi kissing. In the background, Collins and Angel were in mid-laugh, fooling around. The frame was flickering slightly.

"This is a good picture," Joanne remarked.

"I know," Mark said, sighing wistfully.

Joanne caught the sigh. "Mark, you know they were happy when this was filmed," she pointed out.

"But they aren't now," Mark countered, his eyes moving away from the camera to the scuffed wood floor. Something shifted in their deep blueness, and Joanne realized he was struggling to keep his guard up.

"You have a talent," she remarked, studying the still; for a moment, Mark thought she'd forgotten they were talking about the people in the photo. But then her warm brown eyes locked with Mark's sad blue. "You can capture the emotion in a moment to treasure for years to come. Even if you don't feel the joy spilling out of this shot, surely you can see that they're all smiling – they were happy. Collins loved Angel very much, but he'll move on eventually. Roger loves Mimi, but his problem is not moving on, it's moving _out_," she smiled a little at her own joke. "He'll get over it. Even Maureen and I – we know that we're always gonna be okay again eventually. Years from now, when the pain you feel at this moment is dulled, we can look back at this memory you've made and smile at what it brings back. At a different kind of joy. We grow by experiences, Mark. Everyone has loved and lost in their liftetime. But things'll be okay. Let yourself feel sad right now, because you'll get shots like this one again." Joanne stepped back, flushing as she realized she'd just poured her heart out to her girlfriend's ex.

Mark was dumbfounded as well. He'd never heard Joanne say that much at one time. Ever. But he sensed that Joanne had just opened up and given Mark a look at how smart she could really be, and how she felt.

There was an awkward silence as they both stepped back into their shells.

"That really is a good picture, you know," Joanne said softly.

"I know," Mark said, though he really didn't know anything at all.

"We're okay. You'll see," Joanne jumped up and went down the hall to the living room, putting on her coat to leave. Mark followed her.

"We'll see…" he whispered.

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A/N: Review!


	3. And The Songwriter Cannot Hear

A/N: I'm sooo sorry that I haven't updated in a while! Nearing the end of the school year has taken away some free time, plus agitated me enough to give me severe writer's block. I hope this rather short chapter will be enough for now.

Disclaimer: If I am what I own, than I definitely do not own RENT.

**And The Songwriter Cannot Hear**

"I'm writing one great song before I die…" Roger Davis sang softly, plucking the strings on his new guitar. He sighed and pushed his long hair away from his face as he set the instrument on the bench beside him.

It just wasn't as much fun when Mark wasn't there sticking that ridiculous camera up in his face and demanding some sort of dialogue for footage.

The day was November 25. Roger had been in Santa Fe for almost a month. He missed everyone terribly, but he just wasn't ready to go back and face them all. The most he's spoken to any of his friends since he left was the single phone call he'd made to Mark upon arrival in the dry city. Mark had been cranky, not ready to talk but certainly sorry for the fight he and Roger had had. Roger gave Mark the motel phone number. He hadn't used it yet.

Then there was Collins, devastated over the death of Angel, and Maureen and Joanne – and Mimi.

Roger gulped and leaned into the park bench, trying to will his thoughts away from the dark-haired Latino dancer. Ever since he'd left, Roger saw Mimi everywhere. She was constantly on his mind, and his mind reflected her face onto that of passerby. She was the girl at the grocery store, the cashier at the drug store, the lady strolling in the park. Her eyes followed him.

Even as he looked up, Roger saw Mimi by the trashcan. Then he blinked – and she was gone. Again.

"Mind if I sit here?" a voice tore the guitarist from his thoughts. A pretty young blonde-haired woman was standing expectantly by the bench, holding a beat-up backpack.

Roger shook his head and moved his guitar. The girl slid in next to him.

"I'm Alicia," she introduced herself.

"Roger," Roger grunted, hoping the girl wouldn't want to keep up a conversation.

"Do you play?" Alicia gestured to the guitar.

Duh. He nodded.

"I've always wanted to learn. But I'm such a klutz. I wouldn't be able to hold the darn thing straight!" she laughed. "Where are you from?"

Roger was startled by the sudden change in conversation. "Huh?"

Alicia explained, "You're in Santa Fe. The city of escapees. You must be here for some reason, from somewhere. You don't look like a native."

"Oh…New York." He really wished Alicia would just leave.

"Wow. That's a long way away. I'm from California, originally, but I escaped here and stayed. This is my fifth year in Santa Fe. Now, let's see…you're in love with some girl, and you've come here because you screwed up, am I right?"

Again, Roger was caught of guard with the subject change. He was interested in spite of himself. "How do you know that?"

"Your notebook is peeping out of your bag, and it says 'Mimi' on the top page. Unless you've named your notebook, Mimi's your love interest. And you obviously messed it up or you wouldn't be here."

"I'm trying to write her a song," Roger blurted, surprised at himself.

Alicia nodded thoughtfully. "A song. That's sweet. If I were her, I'd like a song that reminds me of what you like about me. Those songs are really good at reminding girls why they love their guys so much. It's deep, though."

Roger's mind drifted back to Mimi the last time he saw her. Her tear streaked face pleading with him not to go. Her beautiful brown eyes…that was it! The title of his song. 'Her Eyes'…no, '_Your _Eyes.' The song would be to Mimi. Snatching up his notebook, Roger crossed out Mimi and wrote 'Your Eyes'.

He turned to his bench mate. "Thanks, Ali-" But the blonde was gone. "What the heck…?" He looked around. She wasn't anywhere in sight. Weird…

Roger shrugged and went back to his song.

"Your eyes…" he sang. It just didn't sound right. Wrong chord, that's why. He tried again. And again.

As Roger continued to look for the right tune and more lyrics, he realized this song had to be perfect. And perfect wasn't going to be easy.

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A/N: I'll try to update ASAP, but with obligations to my other two fics, I don't know when that will be. Before two weeks have passed, hopefully before one. Review!


	4. Where It's Like the Twilight Zone

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter! And I updated before two weeks had passed...didn't make one. Sorry, guys!

Disclaimer: I still do not own this wonderful rock opera.

**Where It's Like the Twilight Zone**

December came, and with it, the first blizzard of the year. Temperatures dropped to the single digits, and everyone put on an extra layer of clothing. Fortunately, after the one storm, the snow came lightly on most days, allowing rays of sunshine to poke through the clouds. It was on one of these pleasant but bitterly cold afternoons that the call came.

Mark was in the Loft, staring out the window at the snow and imagining how it must feel to be in sunny Santa Fe. It was hard to imagine, since the apartment building had gotten so cold that Mark had started wearing his scarf and coat to bed. He'd also begun to skip work at least once a week. As of yet, Alexi hadn't fired him, but at this point Mark didn't even care.

The phone rang. Mark shifted and his eyes flicked briefly to the sound, but he let the machine screen as usual.

_Speak!_

"_Mr. Cohen? This is Doctor Walker from the-"_

Mark leapt over to the phone, recognizing the voice of the man who was in charge at the rehab center. "Hello?"

"_Mr. Cohen?"_

"Yeah, I'm here."

"_I'm just calling to report that Mimi Marquez left the facility yesterday afternoon."_

Mark nearly dropped the phone. "What?"

"_You didn't know?"_

"No!"

The doctor sighed. _"I figured you didn't. These calls are protocol only if the family of the patient, in this case, you, doesn't call us within a twenty-four hour period to confirm their patient has returned home. When you didn't call…"_

"And no one stopped her? She just walked out?" Mark asked in disbelief.

"_Mr. Cohen, I run a corrections facility, not a prison. Unless our patients are considered unstable or it is requested otherwise, they are free to leave whenever they wish."_

"But – it's so cold out! And did you guys ever think that she could be buying drugs as we speak?"

"_I'm very sorry, but what they do when they leave is out of our hands. I have already contacted Mr. Coffin to inform him he no longer needs to pay for our services." _The doctor didn't sound sorry, and suddenly Mark was angry. Angry at this stupid facility for not caring what the people they treated did when they left.

"Thanks for _nothing_," he snarled.

The line went dead.

Mark took the steps to Mimi's apartment two at a time, hoping he would find the dancer there. He opened the door. Silence greeted him.

"Mimi?" he called. There was no answer, and Mark somehow knew that Mimi hadn't been to the apartment since she left it a month before. He took a glance through the other rooms just in case, then mounted the stairs to the Loft, thinking.

He wasn't going to call Roger yet. Mimi had only been out of rehab twenty-four hours, so there really wasn't a reason to worry. But glancing out the window and remembering the cold, Mark shivered and felt worried anyhow.

He decided to call the others just to give them a heads-up.

Maureen and Joanne were both at home, and they promised to be on the lookout for their dancer friend. They also mentioned that if Mimi hadn't turned up in a few days, they would come to the Loft to devise a search plan.

Collins wasn't home, so Mark left a message on his machine. He considered calling Benny, but decided against it when he remembered that Benny already knew Mimi had left. Besides, Roger wouldn't want Benny involved unless it got more serious.

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It got more serious. A week later, Mimi still hadn't shown up and they were all getting really worried. It was December 10, two weeks until Christmas Eve, and the weather was awful.

They'd called Benny about the fourth day, and though he hadn't seen Mimi or heard from her, he promised to help as much as he could.

Mark knew the time had come to call Roger. He hesitated in front of the phone for a couple minutes, and then found the number, over a month old, on the desk. The two best friends hadn't spoken since Roger had first arrived in Santa Fe. It seemed a long, long time ago, considering the two used to talk every day, and Mark found himself eager to dial the number just so he could hear his old roommate's voice again.

Roger answered on the third ring.

"_Hello?"_ The musician sounded tired, even though it would only be late afternoon in Santa Fe.

"Roger, it's me, Mark."

"_Mark?"_ He was surprised to hear from his friend, that much was certain by his tone.

"Yeah, listen-"

"_I'm sorry,"_ Roger cut in, _"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that the day I left."_

Mark blinked, taken aback by the unexpected apology. It was obvious that Roger had wanted to say that for a long time.

"It's…okay. I didn't exactly keep my cool, either," he reminded his friend.

"_Well, yeah…We're friends right? I mean, it was mostly my fault."_

That was _definitely _not Roger – the best friend Mark knew would never have admitted it was his fault. In fact, Roger would normally never have apologized. He would just move on, and so would everyone around him. Either Roger had been cloned, or he was giddy or drunk. Mark ruled out the first possibility.

"Um…is there something-?" He didn't get to finish his sentence.

"_I found my song,"_ Roger interrupted, _"It just came to me a few weeks ago. I'm in the middle of writing it."_

So that was what was making him so happy.

"That's great!" Mark said enthusiastically, "I'm happy for you, buddy."

"_I should be done with it in just a week or two, and then I can call and play it for you."_

Mark's heart dropped.

'Call and play it for you.' Call. _No._ He wanted Roger to come home and play it, before Christmas. But it sounded as though Roger had no plans to come home anytime soon.

"Listen, Roger – I don't want to tell you this, but Mimi left the rehab center a week ago, and she just disappeared. We don't know where she is."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then-

"_Really?"_ Roger's voice had changed, gotten lower.

"Yes. Look, just because we don't know where she is…it doesn't mean anything. She could be at another friend's house, or anywhere, really."

"_Yeah…"_

Mark tightened his grip on the phone. "I just thought you should know," he said lamely. There was no response, so he continued, "Don't worry. She's only been gone a little while…We've started looking, asking around. It could be nothing." He was trying to convince himself as much as Roger.

"_Okay,"_ Roger's voice was quiet now, _"Call me if you find anything…"_

"Of course," Mark said, feeling awkward.

"_I've got to go. Bye."_

"Bye." Mark hung up, feeling awful for ruining Roger's happiness. But he needed to know. The cameraman sighed and left to go meet the others.

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Roger lay back on his bed. Mimi had disappeared. Everything he'd been so happy about only moments before seemed unimportant now. Half of him wanted to board the next bus to New York, but the other half told him to wait. Mimi would turn up. She _would_.

He reached for the controller and clicked on the television, instantly recognizing the show as the Twilight Zone. Even as he watched, a young woman huddled in the snow, shivering.

Roger frowned. He didn't remember this episode. Then the girl looked up and Roger knew what he'd see. Mimi's face stared out at him, her eyes pleading.

Seizing the controller, Roger reduced the screen to blackness. He rolled over, desperate to sleep to get himself out of this nightmare. But he knew this wasn't like a regular nightmare - he couldn't wake up.

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A/N: Fairly long chapter, hope you liked it! Please review! Oh, and Dr. Walker is after Fredi Walker, the original Joanne, for those of you who don't know. But my Dr. Walker was a male.


	5. You're Not Alone

A/N: Okay, I want to majorly apologize for waiting so long to update. I had lots of writer's block and school final exams, but that is all over now. This is probably the next-to-last chapter, and I really want to have the last one up tomorrow, but I don't know if that will end up happening. I'm leaving town tomorrow afternoon, but I will try to update ASAP if not tomorrow. Again, really sorry!!!

Disclaimer: I really wish I could say I was Jonathan Larson. But I'm fifteen, and a girl.

**You're Not Alone**

Another week passed. It was December 17th, and there was still no sign of Mimi anywhere. Maureen and Joanne printed out flyers and handed them out around the area. Collins promised to come home Christmas Eve to join the search. Even Benny tried to help, calling friends of Mimi's. No one knew where she was. The dancer had now been missing for two weeks, and the Bohemians discovered it'd been longer since she'd shown up for work.

Roger had, at first, called the Loft once a day. Mark no longer knew what to tell his friend. The hope and then disappointment he heard on the other end of the line was difficult to bear. The last conversation the two friends had had, two days ago, had ended with a small, stupid fight, and Roger hadn't called the past couple of days.

Today, Mark, Maureen, and Joanne were supposed to go out at 3:00 to look for Mimi yet again. Right now, it was 2:30, and Mark stood up on the roof, reflecting to this time last year. Roger was still depressed about losing April, and Mark was upset over Maureen. Last Christmas was B.A. – Before Angel. Now it was A.A…less than a year later. They hadn't had long enough. And now they might have lost Mimi, too. Also less than a year later.

Sighing, Mark leaned against the wall separating him from the pavement several stories below. He heard the door behind him open, and footsteps approach.

He turned. "Roger…?"

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Roger hurried through the streets of New York City, anxious to get home. He'd made his decision a couple of days ago, in the warm but unfamiliar streets of Santa Fe. He hung angrily up on Mark, sat there for a few seconds, then started packing his bags.

It was easy to see now where he needed to be – where he should have been all along. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

Roger reached the Loft quicker than he expected, and, tightening his grip on the strap of his guitar bag, he went to the door. He fully expected to have to call up for the key, but the door was unlocked, so he started eagerly up the stairs. When he reached Mimi's landing, he paused, wondering if he should enter her apartment. But Mark would have called, fight or no fight, if Mimi was back.

The door to the Loft was slightly ajar, and Roger pushed it all the way open and stepped inside. The main room looked almost exactly as it had when he'd left it a month and a half before. He put his bags down, noticing Mark's scarf, coat, and camera on the couch, which meant the cameraman had to be home.

"Mark?" Roger called. When there was no reply, he ducked into Mark's bedroom, but the space was empty. "Mark?"

The apartment was unoccupied, which left only one place Mark could be.

The guitarist climbed the stairs to the roof, mounting excitement boiling inside him. He pushed the door open, and sure enough, Mark was there, standing with his back to Roger. He turned at Roger's footsteps.

"Roger?"

Roger smiled at his friend, who looked just as pale and geeky as ever. He took a few steps forward. "Hey."

"Hey."

The men closed the gap and embraced. Roger smiled. It felt good to be home.

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Ten minutes later, they were sitting in the apartment, drinking beers.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Roger asked, straddling his favorite stool.

Mark waved a hand. "Oh, that…I quit after I got off the phone with you last time. It just wasn't what I'm supposed to be doing. Wasn't fun." He eyed his friend warily. "What made you decide to come home?"

Roger shrugged. "I realized I should have been here along." He shifted and looked down uncomfortably. "Any sign of Mimi?"

Mark shook his head. "No. Which reminds me…" he glanced at his watch, "I'm supposed to meet Maureen and Joanne to go look again in fifteen minutes."

"I'm coming," Roger said immediately.

Mark sighed and nodded. "I thought so."

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The search that afternoon yielded nothing, nor did multiple other searches over the next week. Christmas Eve came, cold and clear. Nobody was any closer to finding Mimi, though several discoveries had been passed throughout the group via multiple phone calls and meetings.

Apparently, it all came to this: Mimi had not been to work in over a month. The Bohemians had not seen her in three weeks. None of Mimi's other friends had seen her in at least two weeks. She hadn't returned to her apartment, nor picked up her AZT. According to her doctor, she should have run out over a week ago.

It had been agreed to take a break from the search for at least this one night. Collins was coming home, and Maureen and Joanne were going to the Loft around ten.

It was 9:40, and the two women were on their way. They had decided to take the subway and walk the rest of the way to get some fresh air.

As they passed a small park with playground equipment, Maureen tugged at Joanne's sleeve.

"Ooh, Pookie, can we go in? Just for a minute?" Maureen begged.

"Why?" Joanne asked, frowning.

"'Cuz I used to come here with Angel. We'd go down the slides and on the swingset and scare little kids. Please? We've got time!"

"All right," Joanne rolled her eyes, used to Maureen's random bursts of desire.

Maureen ran ahead and quickly scrambled up a small ladder to the tallest platform. "Look, Jo, I'm gonna slide down!" She pointed to the plastic orange tunnel-slide.

Joanne took a few steps onto the mulch and waited.

Maureen sat down and pushed herself out of view. "I'm too big for this," she audibly complained. Then, "Here I go – ouch!"

"Maureen?" Joanne called, running to the mouth of the slide, "Honeybear?"

"I'm fine," Maureen's voice echoed from the dark, "But there's someone else _in here_! I slid into them!"

Perplexed, Joanne reached into the slide and felt a leg. When she pulled, a body slid part-way out. Maureen emerged from the slide as Joanne gently laid the unconscious figure on the ground and stared.

"Who is it?" Maureen picked a piece of mulch off her jeans and glanced over. "Oh, my God! Mimi!"

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A/N: Review!


	6. The Perfect Ending

A/N: Last chapter! Sorry it took a little longer than expected. I was having some trouble with my PC, but I finally fixed it! Anyway, this chapter takes the rough outline of the Finale. It has direct and altered lines from OBC and movie, and made-up lines by yours truly.

Disclaimer: Here's a little bit of trivia for ya: Rent premiered when I was four.

**The Perfect Ending**

"December 24th, 10 pm, Eastern Standard Time. I can't believe a year went by so fast! Let's see what we have here…." Mark reached around his camera to switch the projector on.

Roger, sitting cross-legged on a nearby table, strummed a few notes on his guitar and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Ever since Mark had finished his film two days ago, he'd been testing it out and going on and on about it. He was very proud, and Roger really couldn't blame him. The musician was feeling much the same way about his song, 'Your Eyes', which he'd revised to perfection (in _his _eyes) just yesterday.

The roommates had already refused to show each other the entirety of their pieces of art, preferring to wait until later tonight, or possibly very early tomorrow, to reveal both to their friends at the party.

As the projector blinked to life, a moving image of last-year Roger tuning his guitar appeared on the screen. Mark proceeded to narrate softly.

"This first shot is Roger, tuning the Fender guitar he just got out of hock – when he sold the car that took him away from us to Santa Fe."

"I found my song," Roger pointed out, grinning as his counterpart figure on the screen awarded counterpart Mark the middle finger.

"He found his song - now, if he could just find Mimi…" Mark allowed.

"I tried!" Roger said, looking down, "You _know _I tried."

Mark ignored him, as the image on the screen changed to show Mark himself. "Fade in on Mark, who's still in the dark-"

"Hey, you've got great footage!"

"Which I've cut together-"

"-to screen tonight!"

Mark scratched his head and glanced over at Roger. "I wonder if we'll hear from Benny at all tonight."

Roger snorted. "I hope not, and I doubt it."

Just then, the power blew out, and the image on the projector fizzed and died.

"Speak of the devil..." Roger whistled. "Well, maybe we won't screen it tonight."

Even as the words left his mouth, the power flickered back on, as well as the projector.

Mark reached over, looking relieved, and shut it off, swinging around to face Roger. "Still, I wonder how Alison found out about Mimi…"

"Maybe a little bird told her," Roger said sarcastically.

"Or an angel," a voice from behind suggested.

Collins entered the apartment, carrying a bottle of Stoli and sporting his biggest grin as his former roommates embraced him and welcomed him home.

While Roger grabbed some cups and poured the drinks, Collins looked around and noticed the projector and Mark's camera.

"You finished your movie?" he asked Mark in surprise.

"I did," Mark beamed.

"I wanna see it!" Collins said eagerly.

"Okay – later."

Roger handed out the filled paper cups. "So…are you tutoring again?"

"Nope."

"Back at NYU?" Mark asked.

"Negative. Actually, you know that Food Emporium a few blocks away? I rewired the ATM. Now all you need is a code, and you've got money."

Mark and Roger stared at their computer-genius friend. Slowly, Mark began to smirk.

"What code?"

Collins smiled. "A-N-G-E-L."

"To money, then," Roger proposed, raising his glass, "However shadily received."

The friends bumped their glasses together and drained. Collins was about to speak again when a call from outside interrupted.

"Mark! Roger! Anyone, help!"

The three ran onto the fire escape and saw Maureen and Joanne standing on the street below. What caught their attention was the figure huddled in Joanne's arms.

"Mimi…" Roger breathed.

"We can't get her up the stairs!" Maureen called, "Please, hurry!"

She sounded scared, which meant Mimi must be in bad shape. Roger led the way downstairs, taking the steps in twos and threes. Together, they all managed to get Mimi up to the Loft and onto the table.

"She was huddled in the park, in the dark – and she was freezing!" Maureen explained hurriedly, "She wanted to come here."

"Got a light…I know you…you're shivering," Mimi muttered.

"She's been living on the streets!" Joanne voiced what they'd all realized.

"We need some heat," Roger murmured, throwing his coat over the Latina.

Mimi shuddered. "I'm shivering…"

"I'll go buy some wood, and some food," Mark offered, already on his way to the door.

"Too late for that, man, I'm calling 911," Collins seized the phone and dialed.

"Collins is gonna call the doctor, honey," Maureen whispered to Mimi.

"Don't waste your money on Mimi…me…me…" was her only reply.

"Hello? Hello? I'm on hold!" Collins gasped.

"Would you light my candle?" Mimi wheezed, squeezing Roger's hand tightly.

"Yes, we'll…oh, God…find a candle," Roger said feebly.

Nobody moved, except Collins, who had finally gotten an operator.

"I should tell you…that Benny wasn't…anything," Mimi said hoarsely.

"I know," Roger replied softly, "I should tell you why I left – it wasn't 'cuz I didn't-" His voice broke before he could finish.

"I know…I should tell you, I love you…" Mimi broke off, coughing.

Tears filled Roger's eyes, but he refused to let them show, not when Mimi needed him to be strong. "Who do you think you are, leaving me alone with my guitar? Hold on, there's something you should hear – it isn't much, but it took all year."

And he sang his song to her, the song he'd composed while in Santa Fe, away from her and everything else. When everyone he saw looked exactly like her. Mimi started to fade away near the end, and by the time Roger finished the last note, his voice strong and raw with emotion, she had slipped away from them.

Roger let the tears flow. "Mimi!" He held her body close, wishing it could be some other way. But it was too late.

The other Bohemians watched in silence, releasing their own tears and holding one another. In the distance, sirens blared, already on their way to the Loft.

Roger suddenly drew in a breath, causing everyone to look over at him and Mimi. That was when they saw what he had. Mimi's fingers were twitching, faintly at first, then stronger.

"Mimi…?" Roger whispered in disbelief.

Mimi coughed in response and sat up, pushing Roger's coat off and gazing around at her friends gathered close to the table, eyes wide and wondering.

"She's back…How?" Joanne asked, once again voicing everyone's thoughts.

"I was heading toward this warm, white light," Mimi explained, "And I swear – Angel was there! And she looked good!" Collins gave a strangled laugh as the dancer's eyes fell on him, "And she said, 'Turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy's song." Her eyes moved to Roger, and she managed a half-smile.

Roger put a trembling hand on her forehead. "You're drenched," he laughed, so relieved that Mimi was alive he felt like he could jump up and sing.

Maureen followed suit. "Her fever's breaking."

"How bad?" Mimi asked.

Mark stepped forward. "You're gonna be okay," he assured her, even though none of them could know that.

Mimi's gaze moved past the cameraman to the projector and the camera, and her face lit up. "You finished your film?" she asked brightly.

Everyone laughed at her easy distraction.

"Yes, but we'll watch it later. Gotta get you to the hospital first," Mark rubbed her knee fondly.

Roger hugged his love close, kissing her hair as the ambulance pulled up in front of the apartment. Seconds later, the door opened and the paramedics rushed in. Roger managed to persuade Mimi to get on the stretcher, promising to ride in the back of the ambulance with her, and yes, they would "get her out of that place" ASAP.

The two clasped hands briefly as Mimi was carried out the door. "I love you!" she called.

"I love you," Roger called back, silently thanking the heavens for this second chance. Maureen, Joanne, and Collins followed Mimi out the door immediately, leaving Roger and Mark alone in the Loft for a minute.

Roger turned to Mark. "You think she's gonna be okay?" he asked.

Mark considered. "Yes," he answered truthfully, "I think so. If you weren't here, I don't know, but you helped her pull through it."

"Don't get all sappy on me now," Roger warned. He grinned, and held out his hand. "But for the record, I'll never leave again. Friends?"

Mark pulled the musician in for a hug. "_Best _friends," he corrected.

And together, the two best friends went after the rest of their wacky Bohemian family.

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A/N: Sappy galore! Sry for the sappiness at the end. I was considering ending it earlier, but I decided that this fic was largely about the Mark/Roger friendship, so it needed to end with them. I hope I did the rest of the story justice.

Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys have been great, and I've gotten more positive feedback then I could ever hope to have. Review once more?


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